


Ocean Eyes

by knuddelpuddel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artistic Lance, JuLance, Klance if you have a microscope, Not Beta Read, Ocean, We Die Like Men, give me, heck yeet it's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knuddelpuddel/pseuds/knuddelpuddel
Summary: Lance missed the ocean, missed the way he would paint it. On the team's journey back to Earth they stop on a planet where they get to see a part of Lance they never have.___________________________Lance yearned for the ocean. For it’s calm days, for the days it thrashed relentlessly against the sand. He yearned for the chaos of the foam and water, and the life that the sea kept secret and sheltered in her depths.





	Ocean Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a prompt by @writing-prompts-s (tumblr), go check him out hes p cool. Also the source of any motivation I had this week so go him man. 
> 
> Also ignore the cliche title cause I suck at titles and summaries so RIP. Sorry bout that.

Lance yearned for the ocean. For it’s calm days, for the days it thrashed relentlessly against the sand. He yearned for the chaos of the foam and water, the life that the sea kept secret and sheltered in her depths. When Lance was still on Earth, at a time before the Garrison, he would sit and immortalize the ocean in the one way he could. He painted her in acrylic and oil, on canvas, paper, his own skin. He longed for his paint crusted hands, the fingers he used in place of paintbrushes. His favorite spot to paint was a cliff on the outskirts of his hometown. The way the waves crashed against the rocks, or the birds diving as if to meet the ocean. That place was so beautiful that Lance would often lug his paints, his canvases, all the way to the top of that cliff. Only to gaze at the view before him, immortalizing the ocean in his mind rather than in paint. Maybe something in him back then recognized that he might never go back. Never to see the ocean in her magnificent beauty again. To watch her battle the cliffs for her freedom. 

 

Here in space, Lance missed her calming waves, her rich color, the life she sheltered. Sometimes he could do nothing in the night but ache for her comfort, his hands itching to be covered in paint. To immortalize her again if only to see her once again. 

 

The war went on, and not a day went by where he wasn't reminded of her. Hew saw her ferociousness and passion in Keith, he saw her colors trapped in Allura’s eyes. Hunk was her soft waves, Coran her unpredictability, Shiro her protectiveness, and Pidge the vast knowledge she contains. The ocean was everyone, and yet everyone was her. Maybe he loves them because they reminded him of her, or maybe she loved her because she reminded him of them. 

 

It wasn’t until they landed on KP-17 that Lance got his wish. Coran had mentioned upon first landing, that the planet was known for its vibrant natural resources perfect for making the paint that was renowned across the universe. Lance practically begged Coran for some paint, to which Coran responded animatedly before reluctantly pointing out Lance’s absent canvas. But Lance was relentless, reassuring him that he needed only the paint. Albeit confused, Coran agreed to show Lance how to create the paints. Digging up some videos he had created in his “youth”, without a promise they were intact. And with a hurried promise to be safe and back soon, Lance rushed into the thick of the rainforests that surrounded their camp. 

 

Lance had shrugged off his jacket, shirt, and pants, leaving him in only his boxers and the paint he had created. Lance’s arms, legs, and chest were bathed in the ocean’s beauty. Her foam curling up his neck, waves crashing against his shoulders. His fingers had remembered her perfectly, and in this moment of happiness and longing, Lance cried. Pointing his head to the stars above.

 

This was how the others found him, in that moment of serenity. Clad only in his boxers, tear tracks down his face, his body a replica of the ocean. Lance had disappeared hours ago and dusk was falling. Worried, the team soured the forest for the boy who had rushed off in such a tizzy. The biggest smile had taken over Lance’s face, his eyes sparkling with so much life. While the others stared on with confusion and concern, Hunk smiled fondly at his best friend. Who he had listened to throughout all of his ocean talks in the Garrison, but until moments ago had never seen one of his paintings. Until moments ago, no one had seen the beauty Lance’s fingertips could trace. And looking at him now felt like looking at a piece of his soul. 

 

It was Keith who spoke first, muttering a “Lance?” so quietly some would question if it was uttered at all. In turn, Lance’s head turned to meet the group. And without wiping his tear stained face replied, 

“I just wanted to see her again, even if just once.”

“See who Lance?” Allura softly commented, concern painting her face. 

“The ocean of course.” Lance responded, his smile settling into a fond one. Saving Lance from the inevitable interrogation, Hunk turned toward their camp, calling,

“Let’s go grab you some dinner buddy.”

 

Speechless, the rest of the team followed Hunk and a painted Lance back to the lions. The padding of their feet on the lush forest floor the only sounds to be heard.  
That silence carried on, even when everyone was settled with food on plates before them. It was Pidge who inevitably broke the dead air, 

“What was that back there Lance?”.

Their voice void of anger and instead filled with with innocent curiosity. And so Lance explained, telling of the ocean and the cliffs back home, of the canvases never seen. And a story unlike any other.

 

“About a month before I left for the Garrison, I was painting atop the cliff just like any other day. I had been leaning far over the rocks to see where the waves crashed below. One moment I was smelling the foam, and feeling the ocean breeze on my face, and the next, a rock shook loose and I was falling. I should have panicked, should have been screaming as the sharp rocks below me grew ever closer. But instead I was calm. Somehow feeling completely safe as I plummeted to my watery grave. My next feeling wasn’t a sharp rock to the skull, but instead a surrounding of water I knew hadn't been there moments before. And as strange as it sounds, it felt like being cradled by a thousand different embraces, washing me gently ashore like I was made of glass. And I heard a voice, and echo inside my head, saying,

‘We cannot destroy something that has loved us so beautifully.’

Looking back I realize the wave was probably a coincidence or a stroke of insane luck, and the voice a mere figment of my imagination. But in that moment I had felt so loved. I was so afraid that I would never see her again, so I thought that if I could paint her, just once more, I would be satisfied.”

 

The team looked on in amazement at the boy who didn’t see that he was a son of the sea. He couldn’t see the the ocean that was trapped in his eyes, couldn’t see how he was fiercely loving, caring, and yet as ferocious and ruthless in a fight as the ocean’s waves beating against the cliffs he spoke so fondly of. And so they all vowed to keep the ocean in his eyes. Coran and Allura quietly went to collect as much paint as they could before departing the next day. Hunk and Pidge stopped by a bazaar claiming to need a part for repairs but instead buying canvases. Shiro snuck pictures of the painted boy, hanging them in the black lion. 

And Keith vowed to take the ocean child back. Back to the sea he loved with an unparalleled passion.

**Author's Note:**

> Lance my boy needed some love cause all I read is angst. Love ya guys, thanks for reading, id love to hear what you think, still p new to this whole writing thing so ya know I need validation folks. oh and sorry about the no beta, sharing my writing with people in person sounds absolutely terrifying no matter how close I am to them so lol sorry y'all have to suffer. Also i suck at making internet friends so we out of options there. Also i'm still figuring out this whole formatting thing so HeLp
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. If you can figure out what KP-17 stands for ... ten points to Slytherin


End file.
